If I Can't Love Her
by simplyshelbs16
Summary: Based on the prompt from writingwife-83 for my 50th Sherlock fanfic celebration: Teen!Lock where Sherlock and Molly end up as the lead roles in a school play. Perhaps Sherlock isn't super excited about doing it but it's to make up for rude classroom deductions or something lol. And naturally things end up being a bit more romantic on stage than he expects.
1. Auditions

"I can't believe you did that," Molly laughed as she and Sherlock walked down the hallway.

"Yes, well, she had it coming. Where did she get her teaching degree? I suspect it's drawn with crayon," Sherlock huffed.

"And now, you have to audition for the school's production of Beauty and the Beast as punishment," she pointed out.

"She said I had to audition, not that I had to succeed," he replied. "I can just give a bad performance."

"You probably won't have to; Jim gets to be leading man every year. I'm trying out for Belle. We could go together after school," Molly offered.

 _No, this won't do_ , Sherlock thought. _I can't allow my Molly to kiss that sorry excuse for a man._ His mind froze for a moment. _MY Molly? Where did that come from? Disgusting sentiment._

* * *

"Sherlock, Mrs. Gardner tells me you've been rude in her classroom again," Mrs. Hudson scolded.

"Ah, Hudders, I didn't realize you were the theatre director," Sherlock stated.

"Well, dear, I look forward to your audition," she patted him on the arm in a motherly manner. He seated himself by Molly in the front row of seats when Jim settled on her other side.

"Holmes," Jim acknowledged.

"Moriarty," Sherlock sneered. Their rivalry went all the way back to grade school and each of them grew to have even more disdain for one another.

"Auditioning for Belle, I see," Jim gestured at Molly's notebook.

"Um, yes, I am," she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I hope you get it; wouldn't want to miss out on kissing you," he flirted. Molly blushed much to Sherlock's chagrin. He was the only one allowed to see the pretty flush of her cheeks. His chest tightened until it ached.

"James Moriarty," Mrs. Hudson called out.

"Well, that's my cue," he told Molly before making his way onto the stage.

"Molly, you know how he is," Sherlock warned. "He's not good enough for you."

"No, I don't, not really," she argued. "All I have to go on is your biased opinion. And who are you to decide who deserves me or not? I believe that choice is up to me."

"Molly, I—" he started.

"Margaret Hooper," Mrs. Hudson announced.

"Molly, please," she requested, swiftly walking away from Sherlock and making her way to the stage. Truth betold, she was hopelessly in love with her best friend, but he never saw her that way, nor would he ever. Mary believed otherwise but that was coming from someone who was happily in a relationship with Sherlock's best friend, John.

Sherlock watched her audition in awe and, though he wouldn't admit it, received chills as she sang the title song.

"Sherlock Holmes," Mrs. Hudson called out. He groaned inwardly. Sherlock didn't want to do this but it was to protect Molly from the likes of James Moriarty. She was his friend, and even if she didn't like his meddling, her anger would be worth keeping her safe.

"Good luck," she spoke almost inaudibly as they passed each other.

Molly was prepared for him to throw the audition. She knew he had such distaste for musicals. But then why did he deliver the lines so powerfully? Sherlock began to sing _If I Can't Love Her_ , obviously knowing it by heart. His emotional performance made her tear up as she was seeing a side of her best friend that she never thought she'd see. Of course, Molly knew he wasn't the high functioning sociopath he claimed to be, but he never showed an ounce of emotion unless constant irritation counted.

"That was lovely, Sherlock, thank you," Mrs. Hudson smiled. _Why hadn't he thrown the audition?_ Molly wondered. Perhaps it was his rivalry with Moriarty that changed his mind; some kind of typical testosterone fueled competition. Whatever his reason, Molly knew that Jim had been beat. Was there anything Sherlock Holmes didn't excel at?


	2. First Rehearsal

By the end of the week, Mrs. Hudson had posted the cast list. Molly's face lit up with a smile. Not only was she cast as Belle, but Sherlock had stolen the lead role from Jim Moriarty as the Beast. She was excited for him, though she knew Jim would have a fit over it. _Oh God, I'll be kissing him,_ she mused.

"You're thinking too loudly," Sherlock remarked from behind, startling Molly from her thoughts. "Anything interesting?"

"Oh, um, you got the part," she informed him. "The lead."

"As did you," he pointed out. "Though, I'm not surprised."

"Out of the way, Holmes," Moriarty announced, shoving his way through. He read through the list and gasped dramatically. "Gaston!?" Molly stifled her laughter. _How fitting_ , she thought.

"Well, I've got to get to class," Molly told them. "Good job, Sherlock." He felt his heart lurch when she lightly traced her fingers across the back of his hand before leaving.

"You may have gotten the lead, but you will never get the girl," Jim smirked. "Not that you've ever been interested in such relations." Sherlock only rolled his eyes and left for chemistry class where Molly would be waiting.

* * *

As they observed the various chemical reactions, Molly wrote them down on paper. Everyone knew better than to compete with them on science projects; she and Sherlock were practically experts in the field. After cleaning up, they had a few minutes to talk before the end of class.

"Our first rehearsal is after school today," she told him.

"Brilliant," he sighed in exasperation. "I suppose we'll be running lines and participating in the frivolity of musical numbers for the next three months. Honestly, a waste of my time."

"Well, if you didn't want the part, you shouldn't have chosen to give a good audition," Molly snapped quietly. "Do not be like this, Sherlock. I have been looking forward to it all semester." The bell rang, signifying that class was over. She gathered her things quickly. "If you don't want it, then give it to Jim. At least he'll take it seriously." Sherlock watched as Molly walked out and away from him. He didn't need John to tell him that his attitude had been 'a bit not good.'

* * *

"You're late, Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson told him.

"I know. There was something I had to do beforehand," he explained. Molly was surprised but ended up rolling her eyes, having not expected him to show up. Sherlock seated himself beside her, his bag in hand.

"Molly?" he asked softly. "I am sorry for the way I acted today." She continued to look at him, unable to form words at the sound of his sincerity. "I know it won't make up for it, but I thought you might like to have it." In his hand was a beautiful leather bound edition of Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities; her favourite.

"Sherlock, you didn't have to do this," she told him. "Your apology is all that I wanted. It's beautiful. Thank you."

"I hope I am forgiven," he continued, his face softening just for her to see.

"Of course you're forgiven, you silly man," Molly replied, giving him a small smile. "Really, thank you. You're really sweet when you want to be." Nothing prepared him for the soft, chaste kiss she pressed against his cheek. Once she turned her head away to listen to Anderson and Greg recite their lines as Lumiere and Cogsworth, Sherlock's hand instinctively raised to his cheek, brushing his fingertips where her lips had been.

* * *

Sherlock wasn't all too thrilled about working with Irene, Jim's latest friend with benefits, but it was only for one scene. She played the Enchantress that cast the curse on the Beast and all he had to do was be rude to her. Simple. Perhaps this musical wouldn't be so bad after all.

' _Right from the moment when I met her, saw her'_ … Sherlock rolled his eyes as Jim sang his lines in the opening song. He had to admit, Gaston was a much more fitting role for him with the way he kept attempting advances on Molly. Moriarty made his teeth clench a little too tightly.

' _There must be more than this provincial life!'_ Molly had such enthusiasm in her performance; she was a delight to watch on stage. The only book on hand for her to practice with was the one Sherlock had given her. A couple of missteps were made, but it took talent to not trip over your feet, moving across the stage whilst singing with your nose in a book.

* * *

Once practice was over for the day, Molly approached him with a smile.

"You were brilliant, Molly," he beamed, embracing her before his mind caught up to his actions. Just as quickly as it happened, he stepped away awkwardly, clearing his throat. "Yes, well, um, good, erm, good job."

"Thanks," she blushed. "You too." The lingering silence was louder than anything in that moment.

"Molly, ready to go?" Meena asked. She nodded in response and waved goodbye to Sherlock. He stood there, dumbfounded, at the events of the day.

"Nice performance, mate," John clapped him on the back suddenly. He was in attendance during the rehearsal because Mary had snagged the role of Mrs. Potts.

"I wasn't thinking about Molly," he blurted suddenly.

"Never said you were," John chuckled, furrowing his eyebrows. It was painfully obvious to everyone at school that Sherlock and Molly loved each other. The only ones who didn't know were the lovebirds in question.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Anyone like the BATB storyline I'm giving them outside of the play as well? Though, Sherlolly's progresses a bit quicker as they are established friends. I have done theatre back in middle school and high school, behind the scenes and on the stage. I am only drawing from my personal experiences when it comes to a school play.


	3. Moriarty, Your Gaston Is Showing

Molly jumped back after closing her locker door. Jim was giving her a flirty smirk.

"Good golly, Miss Molly," he spoke in a sing-song voice.

"Look, Jim, I—"

"You look good today, but you know what would make you look better?" he asked.

"Humour me," she sighed, ready to bang her head against the lockers.

"You on my arm," he replied. "It would be a bit sexier, don't you think?"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Molly grimaced, turning her back to him.

"What do you say, Mollycoddles?" he breathed into her ear, grabbing her waist.

"Get away from me!" she shouted. A tap on the shoulder caused Jim to turn around to see a fist going for his face. He went down and Molly shrieked from surprise. A small crowd was gathering now.

"Sherlock, you could get in trouble," she said, her voice laced with worry.

"Doesn't matter," he waved off. "He was harassing you. Are you okay?" He reached a hand out hesitantly. Molly nodded, giving him the go ahead to place a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm fine," she mumbled. "Thank you."

"Sherlock Holmes, I'll have to phone your mother," Mrs. Hudson scolded.

"Mrs. Hudson, he didn't do anything wrong; he was defending me," Molly explained.

"Don't worry dear, I'm just phoning his mother. However, James, you have two weeks detention and a call to your parents as well. If I ever see such a display again, the police will be phoned," Mrs. Hudson informed them. "Come to the nurse's office, now, James." Moriarty groaned and followed her, giving Sherlock a glare.

"Seriously, Molly, are you alright?" Sherlock asked once more.

"I am," she assured him. Without a second thought, Molly threw her arms around him and squeezed tightly. Sherlock felt himself buffering at her affectionate display, his arms still at his sides. She awkwardly stepped away, remembering he didn't like affection all that much. "Sorry. I, uh, should get to class anyways." Molly began to walk away when his voice stopped her in her tracks, calling out her name.

"I'm never far away if you need me," was all he said. She smiled and nodded in acknowledgement.

* * *

"Quite the shiner, Jim," Irene laughed.

"Will you be quiet?" he huffed, joining Molly on stage but keeping his distance under the watchful eye of Sherlock. His performance of _Me_ was filled with all of the dramatics and antagonism that Moriarty was truly comprised of.

' _We'll be raising sons galore!_ ' he sang.

' _Inconceivable!_ ' Molly shot back. Sherlock laughed to himself at the daggers she shot at Jim. _If looks could kill, indeed_ , he thought.

* * *

Soon after, Sherlock and Molly read lines of the deal Belle makes with the Beast to free her father. Molly sang _Home_ quite beautifully, in Sherlock's opinion. He couldn't help but smile at her but quickly reeled it in when she actually looked over at him. Mary as Mrs. Potts and Sally as Madame de la Grande Bouche sang the reprise afterwards.

"That was lovely," Mrs. Hudson smiled. "We'll have to work on your pitch a bit, Sally, but other than that it was wonderful."

"Are we getting to _Be Our Guest_ today?" Anderson asked eagerly.

"That will be tomorrow, as it is a much bigger scene and not everyone is here today," she told him. "Actually, I would like to have Sherlock and Molly perform their verses in _Something There_. I haven't heard the two of you sing together yet."

 _'There's something sweet and almost kind…'_ As Molly sang, Sherlock's heart beat faster with every meeting of their eyes. The way she would look at him; he couldn't begin to describe it.

 _'No, it can't be; I'll just ignore…'_ Molly was in awe with his performance; it was as if he truly meant it.

* * *

"We got a lot done today," she told him as they packed up their things.

"Hm? Oh, yes," he agreed,

"For someone who doesn't participate in 'romantic entanglements,' you could've fooled me with that performance," Molly laughed halfheartedly.

"Yes, well, um, that is the point of acting, correct?" Sherlock questioned.

"I suppose it is," she replied. "We should practice on our own time too. You know, just to brush up on things." _She's trying to kill me_ , he thought.

"Sounds, uh, nice, yes," he answered.

"Alright, so maybe this weekend? Your place?" Molly asked.

"It's a date," Sherlock replied too quickly. "I mean, not a date, but it's a plan or…yes, plan."

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow then," she told him, exiting the auditorium.

"I look forward to it," Sherlock muttered to himself. He needed to get himself under control; his mind wouldn't stop wandering, always focused on Molly, but why?

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thoughts? Virtual Cookies?


	4. A Bit Not Good

Molly had been a bit nervous about going over to Sherlock's place. She only met his parents once, and they were lovely, but Mycroft had frightened her the first time she met him with his cold, calculated eyes. It only took two knocks before Sherlock's mum answered.

"Molly, dear, so good to see you!" Mrs. Holmes exclaimed. "Come in, come in!" She followed the older woman inside. "Care for a ginger nut? They just finished cooling."

"Oh, um, sure. Thank you," she replied, lifting a biscuit off of the platter.

"Ah, Molly," Sherlock's rich baritone sounded from behind her.

"William, you didn't tell me your girlfriend was coming over," Mrs. Holmes told him. Molly nearly choked on the bite she took from the biscuit.

"She's not my girlfriend," he sighed, feeling internally alarmed.

"Whatever you say, dear," Mrs. Holmes gave a knowing smile before leaving the room.

"Well," Sherlock clapped his hands together, "let's get this over with, shall we?" Molly only nodded in reply.

* * *

"Try it again," she laughed. With a roll of his eyes, Sherlock recited his lines from the scene where Belle cleans the Beast's injuries.

"Better?" he asked after they finished the scene.

"Much," she answered. "Okay so the library surprise and then we'll practice _Something There_ again." They sang it twice more. Sherlock kept feeling his heart lurch every time she looked at him with that twinkling in her eyes. Surely, it was all part of the acting; for who could ever truly look at him that way, let alone love him?

"Well, that's all for today I suppose?" he questioned.

"Actually," Molly began, "I was wondering if we could practice the dance scene. I mean, I know we haven't gotten there in rehearsal but I am a bit clumsy." Sherlock felt the air leave his lungs for a split second. To dance with Molly would be a delight; he loved dancing, after all. His mind screamed at him to decline, and for once, he ignored it.

"Of course; I mean, if you insist," Sherlock replied. He helped her find the correct position, arms and hands placed as they should be. They began to move, slowly, their eyes cast downward to watch their feet. Both of their hearts beat rapidly in time with one another's. Molly could hardly concentrate with the warm, intoxicating feeling that overcame her. She tripped over his feet, and with his reflexes quick as ever, Sherlock caught her in his arms. Their eyes locked, a connection so intense that it left them nearly breathless. Their faces were so close together. He felt himself leaning in further. Further still. Their lips just barely brushed before the sound of the elder Holmes brother alerted them, immediately making them straighten up.

"Participating in romantic entanglements, brother mine?" Mycroft grimaced.

"That's preposterous," Sherlock stated. Molly was still trying to process what had almost happened. The next words that came out of his mouth broke her heart. "It's for the play; it meant nothing. She means nothing to me." The words spilled from his accursed lips before he realized what he had said. His eyes found Molly's full of anger and sadness; the twinkling chocolate irises were gone. He wished she would have said something before storming out in utter silence. It was the things left unsaid that haunted him most.


	5. Apologies

**Sherlock attempts to make things up to Molly; Moriarty attempts to 'kill the beast'...**

* * *

"Molly, I can—"

"Sherlock, just don't, please," Molly sighed. "You are only to talk to me if it involves chemistry or rehearsal." With that, she left her locker and walked on to her first class.

Throughout the week, Molly would find different items in her locker; a pack of jaffa cakes here and a book on forensic pathology there. Molly knew that it was him who left her these things as a silent apology.

* * *

"Twirl her around," Mrs. Hudson directed. Sherlock did as she said but his and Molly's performance was lacking. "Alright, you two, stop. Something has obviously changed between you over the last month. This is never going to work if you don't try to fix it. The dancing is too stiff; it needs to be fluid and passionate." They nodded in acknowledgement. It wasn't that Sherlock hadn't tried talking to her; every time he started to open his mouth outside of chemistry class and rehearsals, Molly cut him off.

"Anything else you wanted to go over, Hudders?" Sherlock asked.

"Not today, no," she answered. "Until you two fix what's wrong, I can't direct you properly."

* * *

During their next rehearsal, Molly, Greg, Anderson, Mary and the ensemble practiced _Be Our Guest_. Sherlock and Moriarty were seated in the front row watching the train wreck before them.

"Anderson, your French accent is atrocious," Sherlock told him.

"Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson scolded. He was about to open his mouth again until he saw Molly's eyes giving him daggers.

"Sorry," he muttered. After about five run-throughs, it was little more than satisfactory in Sherlock's opinion.

The next song practiced was _Gaston_ in which Sebastian Moran, Jim's right hand man, played Lefou. Sherlock was surprised when Molly chose to sit next to him. The guilt gnawed at his heart. He had tried to apologize, but she wouldn't have it. Their friendship was over. He missed his best friend.

Molly hated giving him the cold shoulder; it wasn't like her, but she felt she needed to protect her heart. That's why she felt surprised when she found her fingers absentmindedly brushing up against his. Sherlock sat frozen at the unexpected touch. He wanted to hold her hand, kiss her fingertips and beg for her forgiveness. He knew he would do anything for her.

"Sherlock, Molly, let's go through the scene where you find Belle in the west wing," Mrs. Hudson told them. They arose from their seats and joined each other on stage. "The rest of you are welcome to go home. You're all done for the day." Everyone exited as Sherlock recited his lines, having to raise his voice at Molly. He felt bad enough without having to act out one of the crueler scenes _. It's just for the play_ , he thought. Molly 'fled from the castle' (backstage).

"I need a bit more aggression from you, Sherlock, but other than that, it was wonderful! That's all I have for you two today," Mrs. Hudson smiled. She walked out of the auditorium as Molly went to gather her things.

"Aren't you going home?" she asked Sherlock.

"I think I may work on some things alone," he replied. Molly shrugged and left through the door. She missed him but it was for the best. She knew he didn't mean what he said that day in front of Mycroft, but that didn't make it hurt any less. Of course, she knew Sherlock would never feel for her what she felt for him, but when their lips had brushed, she thought otherwise until the earth shattering moment when it was realized that he wouldn't allow it to happen even if he wanted it. And somehow, that hurt more.

When she faintly heard Sherlock singing the opening line of _If I Can't Love Her_ , the pain and heartbreak in his delivery of the lyrics made her tear up. Curiosity won out and she quietly opened the door to slip back inside without his knowledge.

" _How I could have loved her and make her love me too_ ," he sang. His emotions were raw and revealing. Chills covered her body, making her shiver, despite the fact she was dressed snugly. As he finished, Molly blinked back her tears, as did Sherlock, neither wanting to show them.

His eyes found hers as he made his way off of the stage. Molly wanted to leave, she wanted to stay. Her heart raced with every step he took. She was half ready to run out through the door. Oh, but she wanted to know what he had to say for the first time in two weeks. Unsure if she was brave enough for this, Molly remained where she stood despite her better judgment.

"Molly," his voice was soft and broken. He kneeled down in front of her. "No apology could ever make up for how cruel I was. I don't expect your forgiveness; I'm not even sure that I want it. I cannot ever forgive myself for hurting you; my best friend. For what it's worth, I am truly sorry. I have been wracking my brain for ways of fixing this and I'm helpless. It is unfixable and I am an utterly unforgivable arse." Before Molly could reply, a voice rang loud and clear through the auditorium. Apparently Moriarty never went home, and wherever he was, Moran would be close by.

"What do we have here?" Moriarty asked with amusement. "One boring Sherlock Holmes and his frigid leading lady."

"Leave her alone," Sherlock growled. "This is only between you and I."

"You don't know what you're up against, Holmes," he warned, stepping closer, nearly closing the gap between them.

"Sherlock, he's not worth it," Molly said in an attempt to stop the inevitable.

"No," Sherlock replied, "but you are." She moved quickly, standing in between them.

"Just stop it," she told them. "Both of you, before someone gets hurt."

"That is rather the point, my dear," Moriarty pointed out. Sherlock stood down, backing away with Molly in tow.

"Let's go," he said. They turned to walk away when Sherlock was suddenly pulled back, a fist going towards his face. Sebastian Moran had drawn first blood on behalf of Moriarty.

"What are you doing? Jim, stop this now!" Molly exclaimed. "And you,"—she pushed Moran away—"leave him alone!" She was pushed down to the ground, her head hitting the edge of the stage on the way down, and that's when Sherlock snapped. He went after both of them relentlessly. Molly stepped out into the hallway to get help, shouting for Mrs. Hudson.

"Molly? What's wrong?" John appeared, coming out of the main office.

"It's Sherlock; he's in danger," she told him, leading him to the auditorium. John immediately took action, successfully pulling everyone off of each other. Mrs. Hudson was quickly walking down the hallway to see what the commotion was about. Once Molly had explained everything that happened, suspensions were given to Moran and Moriarty. John offered to take them to the hospital just to get Sherlock checked out. It had been one hell of a day.


	6. Forgiveness

"Are you okay?" Sherlock asked, sitting on the hospital bed.

"You're bloodied up and worried about me?" Molly laughed in disbelief. "I'm fine. It's just a bump."

"Brother mine, you've seen better days," Mycroft said, entering the room. "Miss Hooper."

"You should see the other two," Sherlock grinned cheekily. "Are mummy and father here?"

"Yes, they're talking with the doctor about your concussion; it's a good thing you don't sleep much," the elder Holmes brother replied. "I shall fetch them now."

"Mycroft, wait," Sherlock spoke up. "Do you see this woman here?" He gestured to Molly. Mycroft nodded. "She means everything to me. I grew up adapting to your cold logical way of thinking, ready to push away any chance at a, as you put it, romantic entanglement. Not anymore. I know you didn't mean any harm, but I learned this from you. Molly is my best friend and I'm in love with her. It's about time I admitted it."

Molly was at a loss for words when his eyes found hers. Mycroft acknowledged this with satisfaction and left to find their parents.

"You're such an idiot," she laughed, her tears pushing over the edge.

"I know," was all he said.

"But you're my idiot," Molly smiled, her hand caressing his cheek, gently stroking his bruised cheekbone. Sherlock leaned into her, breathing in the sweet honeysuckle scent of her perfume. Suddenly, their lips were connected, fitting perfectly. Their tongues crashed together, both eager for the taste of each other. It was better than Molly could have ever dreamt.

"I promise I'll make it up to you," Sherlock told her as they broke away, catching their breath.

"I think you already have," she spoke quietly. "I love you. I've always loved you."

"You've forgiven me?" he asked with surprise.

"Of course I have; I couldn't stay mad at you forever…I was missing my best friend," Molly told him, kissing his cheek. Sherlock felt calmer than he had in a long time, having her by his side again. He knew he would do whatever it took to make her happy and heal her heart, ready to pick up the pieces.

* * *

"Please don't leave me…" Molly cried into his chest. "I love you." The audience was in awe. Once the Beast was newly transformed back into a human, their onstage kiss was full of passion and quite real. Sherlock thought back on how close he had been to losing Molly and brought all of it to the forefront of his mind as he kissed her. The lights went low and the end scene began. Sherlock twirled her around and brought her back into his arms. The curtains closed and the crowd gave a standing ovation. They had just put on the performance of their lives.

Curtain call came and Sherlock couldn't keep his eyes off of Molly, beaming with joy. He kissed her temple, catching her off guard. He had just shown her affection in front of the whole school and their families. _As F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote_ , Molly thought, _'It's all so simple. He loved me and I loved him. That's all there is._ '

* * *

 **Author's Note:** brownie points if you can name which F. Scott Fitzgerald that quote is from. p.s. there will be an epilogue.


	7. Happily Ever After, an epilogue

"Arms extended just like this, honeybee," Sherlock told her. They danced around 221B as the ballroom scene of Beauty and the Beast played on the telly. He lifted her just as they did in the movie, giggles erupting from the small girl in his arms.

"Again!" she told him.

"And what do you we have here?" Molly asked with amusement as she walked through the door. Her hand settled over the slight swell of her belly.

"Mummy!" Charlotte Holmes exclaimed, running towards Molly. "Daddy taught me the dance!"

"Did he now?" her mother asked, a knowing smile on her face.

"Mhmm," their daughter confirmed. "He said you danced with him too and it was when he knew he fell in love with you."

"Is that right, Mister Holmes?" Molly laughed.

"Of course, Mrs. Holmes," Sherlock replied. He took his wife's hand in his and kissed her fingertips. "Care to dance?"

"Oh, why not?" she agreed. Their daughter cheered them on as they recreated the infamous dance they had first learned twenty years ago.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. Instead of replying, Molly gave him a proper snogging.

"Uncle John says I can't see that," Charlotte said. "I don't know why. Rosie sees him and Aunt Mary do it. Why do you do that?"

"Because I love your daddy very much," Molly told her.

"And we love you," Sherlock added. Their daughter laughed as her mummy and daddy covered her face in kisses. This was their small family, still growing, and they were home.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** thanks for reading and reviewing!


End file.
